How Kiddo Keeps Me Grounded ...

There is a blessed perspective and a bellyful of laughs that come from having an 8-year-old around the house.  Here are just a few snippets of conversation with her that manage to make us giggle and keep us grounded:

On Pilates

Me:  "I just did 20 roll ups."

Kiddo:  "They looked like regular sit-ups to me." 

Me:  "I've been trying to get these right for months."

Kiddo:  "You'll have to do a lot more if you wanna catch up."

 On My Blog

Me:  "Hey, Smilin' Vic, Kiddo, I have 4 subscribers." 

Smilin' Vic:  "Cool." 

Kiddo:  "What are subscribers?" 

Me:  "People who want to read my blog." 

Kiddo:  "Cool, then they can use your ideas." 

Me:  "I guess." 

Kiddo:  "So you only have 4 subscribers in THE WHOLE WORLD?" 

Me:  (heavy sigh)  "Yeah ... "

On Food Choices

Me:  "If you don't eat meat, it's hard to get all your protein and be healthy. "

Kiddo:  "Just because you want to eat something that was happier alive doesn't mean I have to.  Can I just have beans, please? "

On Boobs

Kiddo:  "How come women have to wear tops but men don't always?" 

Me:  "Because men don't have breasts." 

Kiddo:  "I saw men with boobs at the beach." 

Me:  "Are you done your homework?" 

On Death

Kiddo:  "Maman, how come people have to die?" 

Me (thinking hard):  "Because you start to get pretty bored of living once you're past a hundred or so." 

Kiddo (thinking hard):  "I'm pretty sure I'd rather be bored." 

On Desert Fashion

Kiddo:  "I'm happy you don't have to wear an abaya, Maman." 

Me:  "Why's that?"  

Kiddo:  "Because then no one would get to see your new bra."

Me (silently, in my head):  "Note to self:  Ditch the shirt ... apparently it's transparent in sunlight." 

On Driving in Doha

Me (in the front seat to Smilin' Vic):  "Is that driver crazy, blind, or both?" 

Kiddo (in the back seat):  "I don't think blind crazy people are allowed to drive in Canada, are they Maman?"

Smilin' Vic and Me:  sorry, this part was unintelligible through the peals of laughter ... 

Everyday traffic in Doha ...

On Driving in Doha, Part 2

Kiddo:  "Why is there always so much traffic in Doha?" 

Me:  "I don't know ... the roads are too small, there are too many cars, no trains ..." 

Kiddo:  "Maybe it's 'cause the crazy blind people drive really slow." 

Me (silently, in my head):  "Time to really start watching my big mouth around Kiddo." 

On Michelle Pfeiffer

Kiddo:  "Maman, that lady looks just like you." 

Me:  "And that, my child, is why you will go far in life." 

There's just something so crazy great about an eight-year-old's perspective. 

At Least They Don't Have Me Doing This ...

I think I'll call this first day on the job a resounding success.  Everything went quite smoothly.

Except for traffic. 

I dropped Kiddo off at summer camp an hour before I was meant to present at HR.  Since her summer camp is a short five-minute drive from the office (literally 2.5 km), I was sure this was more than enough of a time cushion, even for Doha.

Silly me.

Smooth sailing until I veered into the far left lane preparing for the final u-turn before my destination.  It had taken me barely 20 minutes to make it that far.  Plenty of time to spare.  

Or so you would think.

For the next 32 minutes, I sat in that same spot, staring directly across the street at the parking lot meant to harbor my car as I went off to earn some dosh.  I watched as the four police officers at the intersection stopped all but oncoming traffic for 32 minutes.  I watched as the left-turn traffic light turned green, then amber, then red, then green, then amber, then red, then green ... you get the picture.

I fumed in my car as the other cars corralled around me honked their horns ceaselessly.  I resisted the urge to step out, raise my hands in the air and cry out "and WHERE, exactly, would you have me go?"   Though I struggled, I managed to maintain my "first day on the job high".

Eventually, all ended well, with me stepping into the lobby exactly 4 minutes before my scheduled meeting with the HR rep.  As luck would have it, the HR rep held the elevator door open for me for the ride up.

That's the one good thing about traffic in Doha ...  no one is immune.  If you're late, chances are most everyone else will be too.

The rest of the day went swimmingly.  Other than the call from sports camp saying Kiddo was feeling unwell.  After a quick chat with her, we agreed that Smilin' Vic would pop out of work early to bring her home.

One must expect such small glitches on the first day of work.  Murphy's Law and all that.

But all in all, I feel like the day was a success.  Not a roaring success, but definitely a nice day in a welcoming and seemingly productive environment.

I have a good feeling.

No doubt there could be worse scenarios on the job front: 

At least they don't have me doing this ....

(See those teeny, tiny dots dangling from ropes strung over the roof?  Those would be some very, very brave window cleaners.  There are definitely some tough jobs out there.) 

Sign Me Up for that Reverse Culture Shock Workshop ...

Sting's "Englishman in New York" played on a constant loop in my head for the first few days after I landed in Canada this past June ...

So many things about this "home and native land"* always seem so foreign and/or striking upon returning to my homeland after months in the ME.  

"I'm an alien, I'm a legal alien, I'm an expat in Canada." 

There are the obvious differences:  

• the clash of an abaya-clad lady standing shoulder to shoulder with a granny in a fake tan, stilettos, leggings and a tube top in the Customs line.  
• the welcome being broadcast over the airport PA system in French and English - "Welcome to Montreal", "Bienvenue a Montreal".  Not a single "Marhaba".  
• the absence of 300 listless laborers disembarking a single flight from Sri Lanka with nothing but a plastic grocery bag as a carry-on.

Then there are the more subtle things.

Still no fast-pass for me

One thing that surprised me is that there is now a "National queue" for Canadians at passport control/customs.  In the past, Canada has likely prided itself on political correctness by excluding everyone from fast-tracking customs.  Nonetheless, Pierre-Elliott Trudeau Airport now boasts a "Canadian Residents" line.  

Fat lot of good that does me.  I am a citizen, yes.  A resident, no.  My chances at ever making it into one of those fast-track lanes seem to have been foiled again.  I WANT a fast-pass lane!!!!!!

I wind my way slowly through arrivals with an army of in-transit passengers, vacationers, business travelers and newly landed immigrants.  I show my passport to the customs officer ... He asks me what the purpose of my visit is; I explain that I needed a breath of fresh air, a reconnection with family, a proper fix of Tim Horton's.  Judging by his flat expression and blank stare, my attempt at levity has gotten me exactly nowhere ... some things are actually quite similar no matter where you're traveling to.  

"I'm on vacation", I retract ...  He writes a code on my immigration card.  I can never remember which code will get me directly through the arrivals gate and which will get me frisked.  I find out soon enough that today's code is a pass.  I am off to meet my family!

Porters  ... a thing of the past

But first I must collect my bags ... not a porter in sight. Unlike Doha where there are dozens of porters standing by the luggage belts actually anticipating carrying your luggage with glee.  I WANT a porter!!!!!!

I wait 45 minutes for my bags to come around on the carrousel.  It is about 1.5 hours after landing that I finally get to hug my sister and gulp in as much fresh Canadian air as I can before stepping into the car for the ride downtown.

Pedestrians on sidewalks ... 

I'm coming from a country where sidewalks are for parking and cycling (not the leisurely kind of cycling; the laborer on a banana bike type).  Nary a pedestrian to be seen.  People just don't 'walk' to get around in Doha.  

In downtown Montreal, the sidewalks are teeming with folk of all ages, all walks of life.  Here a teenager jogging in short shorts and a t-shirt; there an elderly couple taking a leisurely stroll; across the street a few smart-dressed professionals having a smoke the obligatory 10m away from the front of an office building.  The bustling, the vivacity, the eclecticism of it all is enough to give me a feeling not that unlike brain-freeze.  It is truly, truly invigorating.

A clear head ... 

You'd think I'd be used to the dust, the stuffy sinuses and the mild yet ever-present cough after seven years in the Land of Sand.  I guess in a way I have become acclimatized to a degree, because as I head out to pound the pavement that first afternoon, the fresh air is like an assault on my system.  I swear, it's almost like I can think more clearly, despite coming off a 13-hour sleepless flight and having been awake for close to twenty hours.  The rush of oxygen to my brain those first few days seems to ward off the jet lag remarkably fast.

Where are all the beads and sequins? 

Even though the national dress in Qatar is the abaya (traditional long black gown worn by women over their clothing when going out in public), many of these are festooned with beads, pearls, embroidery and sequins.  Women who don't wear the abaya tend to wear bright colors, sparkly tops, leopard print skirts and the like.  Montreal, while extremely cosmopolitan, is a much more 'muted eclectic' on the fashion front.  Note that this is not necessarily a bad thing.

Is wearing shoulder blades, bare knees and pierced navels in public actually legal? 

You just can't help it.  No matter how overtly liberal you may consider yourself in the ME, no matter how emancipated and moderate the ME country you are living in may seem compared to others in the region, after a few years as a ME expat you will become overly sensitive to the sight of exposed flesh striding down the street in broad daylight.  Crop tops, tank tops, tube tops, hot pants, barely there skirts and crack-baring jeans are a visual onslaught.  The desensitization only takes a few days, but it the meantime it can be highly disruptive when driving or trying to hold down a conversation.  

Did I actually just pay taxes on picking my nose? 

EVERYTHING is taxed in Canada.  Sometimes the tax is built-in (e.g. for gas), but sometimes it comes as a big fat surprise.  (I know, I know, it's not like I've never lived here before, but it still comes as a shock when you've been away for so long.)  You will be charged a provincial and a federal tax on pretty much everything you purchase, from that takeaway pizza to that early-morning coffee to that trip to the salon.   

I could go on forever:  the assault of green on your senses when you've become acclimatized to beige, the thrill of rain drops replacing dust particles, the sound of church bells ringing in the distance, the surprise and slight discomfort at understanding every single conversation going on around you, etc.  The But my point is simply that cultural adjustment is not a one-way trip.   Just when you think you've got the expat acclimatization halfway sorted out, you realize you will likely one day have to make the return journey and start all over again.

Reverse culture shock 101.  Sign me up now ... 

Below are a few images of some other differences spotted while on our last trip.  Hope you enjoy. 

 *Reference to "Oh, Canada", the Canadian National Anthem. 

Rainbow over Montreal after a downpour.

Blue skies over Qatar.  The sky is usually more beige than blue. 

Decidedly unhealthy "poutine" in Quebec.  (poutine = french fries, gravy and curd cheese).

Getting fish ready for a healthy meal in Doha.

A bottle of water costs about 0.33$ in Qatar.  In Canada it costs as much as a coffee ($1.40 + tax).  You'd never think Canada is listed 3rd on the world's renewable fresh water reserves list.

Stop sign in English and Iroquoi (on the Kahnawake reserve).

Stop sign in French only in Quebec.

Stop sign in Arabic and English in Doha.

Maple Bacon in Canada.  Words truly fail me (this stuff is sinfully delicious).

Bacon in Qatar (yes, we can actually get pork products now, but once this stuff is done it basically just tastes like fried salt).

Cycling in Canada ... (teehee!) 

Cycling in Doha ...

Cost of filling up an RV (3/4) in Canada.  Yikes!!!!!  (gas is about 0.30$/liter in Qatar, it would work out to about 45$ Canadian here.) 

Church steeples in Canada.

Mosque in Doha

Road in the Cape Breton Highlands (Nova Scotia, Canada) 

Road leading from Dukhan to Doha.

Rugged Cabot Trail coastline.  (Nova Scotia, Canada)

Fuwairit coastline.

Warming up to a roaring Canadian campfire!

Chillaxin' by the pool at St. Regis Hotel, Doha

And last, but not least, Canadian Tire money!!!!!  

What Really Carries Weight in the ME? (Joining the Global Fight Against Obesity)

Obesity is a constant topic of conversation and concern throughout the world, but increasingly so in the Middle East .  Rare is the day that goes by where regional newspapers do not feature at least one article on the subject.  

Confronting the issue of obesity, heart disease and diabetes is continually at the forefront in this country as well, likely a result of increasingly alarming rates of overweight and obese people within the state (I won't throw any random numbers around, but a simple google search will yield approximate obesity rates for pretty much any country).  

The conditions listed above are explicitly addressed in this country's national health strategy, at regional health conferences, within school curriculums, in urban planning and in the national development strategy.  Qatar has even gone so far as to declare the second Tuesday of February a statutory 'sports' holiday as part of its commitment to create awareness and to provide citizens and residents with opportunities to live healthy and get fit.  I think the country is actually taking some very impressive, concrete and sustainable steps towards providing the education needed to incite this and future generations to healthy living.  

Yet coupled with the awareness initiatives is an increasing trend toward quick fixes to this expanding (pun intended) problem.  Health food stores and "diet shops" are popping up more and more in the ME.  Entire clinics catering exclusively to patients seeking lap band surgery and gastric bypass are not unheard of.  Fast tracks to rapid weight loss that don't really have much to do with embracing the benefits of a healthier lifestyle.

It's not unheard of to find these establishments set up in a strip mall, right next to a popular fast-food outlet, bakery, donut shop or ice cream parlor.  I can't help but wonder at the logic.  It's almost like opening up a chemo center next to a cigar bar.  "Come on in and see us;  we'll try to make you better, but if we fail, you can always pop in next door for your last hoorah!"

A glowing example of the stopgap approach appeared in yesterday's local newspaper, touting an initiative in Dubai to help motivate people to lose weight through the launch of a campaign titled "Your Weight in Gold".  Participants in the campaign who lose a minimum of 2 kg by August 18, 2013 will be compensated with 1 g of gold for each kg lost.  

"Brilliant!"

Or is it?  What possible personal motivation is attached to that gram of gold?  While I applaud the intention, I can't help but think that the carrot at the end of the skinny stick is not enough in this case to get people thinking about what really matters.  

A gram of gold is selling today at about 47$ (US).  In the big scheme of things, I'm convinced that 2kg of "me" is worth more than 95$.  At that rate, my life (as measured by my weight) is barely worth $2,700.  Is that really how we want to go around measuring what matters?   

It got me thinking about the things that really motivate people to make a positive lifestyle change.  For example, recent studies have shown a possible link between weight loss and improved memory in older women.  I'm thinking if I were menopausal, that study would be a pretty good incentive to lose a few lbs.  

For some people, it might be the hope of living a little longer, or a little better.  For others, it might be a chance to practice a sport with their child, or that mountain climb that's been on their bucket list.  It might be simply to stop burping so much, or to ease the pain in that bum knee.  It might be to leave a healthy legacy to their child, or to breathe easier, or to simply feel better about themselves.  

But somehow I doubt it's ever about 95$. 

Hopefully personal motivation will kick in and it's not only silver and gold that will carry weight in the fight to end obesity. 

Sometimes you just have to step away from the fridge ... 

As an aside .... 

I wonder what world health powers would think of my strategy to change food currency to calories and physical activity rather than dollars and cents?  

e.g.  After my diet breakfast and diet lunch, I pop in for a fast food burger and fries.  The conversation that ensues goes something like this:    

Fast Food Server:  That will be 1,400 calories, Mam.    

Me:  But I don't have 1,400 calories left today.  I've already paid 1,200 for lunch and breakfast.

Fast Food Server:  Well, we ARE offering a special on the "Balanced Meal";  it comes in at just under 600 calories.  It's not as trendy, but it's gotten some really good reviews. 

Me:  But I really wanted the "Biggie Biggie Meal".  Can't we come to some sort of agreement? 

Fast Food Server:  Well, you're in luck.  Because we've just started a layaway plan.  I'll get the burger started, and you go back there and sign up with our Calorie Credit Agent.  Talk to him about signing up for the pedometer account.  It's that easy.  You can take up to 8 hours (at a leisurely 5 km/hr pace) to earn that burger, fries and big drink.  As soon as you're done, "Biggie Biggie Meal" is all yours.

I'm thinking I might reconsider a few food choices. 

Sleeping right after a heavy meal can lead to health problems ... why not start making better lifestyle choices now?

July ... The Long Month

July in Qatar seems to drag by so much more slowly than any other month of the year.  

Not because it has 31 days.  Six other months in the year can lay claim to the same.

Not because the daylight hours are that much longer.  Sunset only varies by about 1 hr 20 min throughout the year. 

Not because there is anything exciting and dangerous going on (apparently the brain produces an illusion of time warp in emergency situations).  Nope; everything pretty much slows to a snail's pace in Doha in July. 

So why do I feel like time the days simply drag by?   

I can't be certain, and there's no science behind my assumptions (other than a few Googled observations on temperature), but I tend to believe that the following contribute directly to the illusion of time dilation in July in Doha: 

1. On average it is the hottest month of the year.  Outdoor activities are not only difficult, they can be quite dangerous if you're not sufficiently hydrated.  Daytime temperatures can reach well up into the high 40's (Celsius ... or 104 - 118 F).  While nighttime temperatures may dip slightly, this is when the humidity tends to kick in, often reaching upwards of 84% for three days out of four towards the end of the month.
2. It is preceded by the end of June, which marks Exodus in Doha for expat wives, moms and kids.  All of them wise enough to escape the July 57C (137F) heat index (combined measure of heat and humidity).
3. Kiddo's birthday falls smack dab in the middle of the month ... which leaves us scrambling to gather enough friends to throw a half-decent party.
4. I'm not working outside the home this summer. 
5. This year, the month of Ramadan covered most of July (July 8 - August 7, 2013).  During the Holy Month of Ramadan in Qatar, the following applies:

• No eating or drinking or smoking in public during sunlight hours.
• Restaurants do not open until Iftar (meal served after sunset to break fast during Ramadan).
• Hotel restaurants and venues are totally dry (no alcoholic beverages are served).
• Cinema halls are closed until Iftar.  
• Most entertainment venues (indoor amusement parks, bowling alleys, skating rinks) are closed until after Iftar.
• Residents are asked to pay particular attention to appropriateness of dress and social decorum. 
• Some large grocery chains are open from 9:00 a.m. - midnight, but your usual corner store may be open 9:00 a.m. - noon and 7:00 p.m. - midnight, or 6:00 a.m.- 10:00 a.m. and 3:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m.  Pretty much left to you to figure out.
• Government and most business working hours are cut down to 5 working hours a day.  This makes going anywhere between 9:00 - 10:00 a.m. and 2:00 - 3:00 p.m. virtually impossible, extending a 15-minute drive to an hour or more.   
• Trying to drive anywhere after 6:30 p.m. or so (after evening prayer) becomes an unforgettable lesson in peril and patience.

But while finding a way to pass the days can be a challenge, it can be done.

1. Do your best to socialize, to get outside for a bit, and to enjoy the outdoors where possible.  We've enrolled Kiddo in a sports camp for the month.  The venue allows kids of all ages to socialize and make new friends, practice indoor sports, go for a short daily swim outside, and get creative.  I've met a few moms there and we've arranged to meet up with the kids for playdates, which gets me out of the house as well.  Driving Kiddo to camp and doing groceries and running errands in the morning at least gets me out there.  
2. Catch up on things you've been meaning to get done (I've completed a few organizational projects that I kept on putting aside, and we are catching up on recorded episodes of Jr. Master Chef, America's Got Talent and Come Dine With Me in the evenings).  
3. Focus on staying healthy.  Take advantage of those long afternoons to go to the gym, work out at home, or prepare a new healthy recipe that you've been wanting to try for a while but never got around to. 
4. Find places to go in the evening that aren't too far away, and hire a car if you really don't feel up to fighting the traffic alone.  The streets will get crazy after evening prayer, with many people off to visit friends and family, enjoy an Iftar meal at one of the many Ramadan tents set up for this purpose, head to the mall, or simply "cruise" (unlike us 'unsociables', there are a good deal of people out there who actually enjoy the crowds and the chaos of traffic on the Corniche).  Even though we get frazzled by the intensity of it all, we still try to get out a few times during the month for a meal, a trip to the movies or a visit to some friends.  
5. Go easy on yourself, and allow yourself to enjoy that oft-saught after daytime snooze.  Or just take the opportunity to rest up doing something you love.  Finish that book, do some arts and crafts with the kids, play the piano mid-afternoon.  Just choose one of the things you're always complaining about "not having time to do", and DO it! 

July ... the long month. 

August ... are we there yet????